Slave
by chane
Summary: After WWIII, Russia is forced to sell his little sister to England to repay war debts. NSFW, human names used, etc...
1. Part 1

**Title:** Slave [Part I/?]  
**Author:** Corvyie  
**Inspiration:** Kink Meme Request that basically said, "Maid Belarus x Pirate England. Anything."  
**Style:** Multiple parts  
**Genre:** Romance/etc...  
**Pairing:** England x Belarus  
**Word Count:** 1,243  
**Date Written:** Sunday, March 07, 2010  
**Summary:** Sold to England after WWIII, Belarus now works for "Captain Arthur Kirkland" as a slave. Well, that was his intentions, at least...  
**Warnings:** None for this part... wait, wait, I got one! Crappy done-in-three-hours writing! Yes, it pretty much sucks...

**"Arthur" Note:** Well, I was just browsing kink meme like I do every day and I stumbled across this request. In a sentence it said, "Pirate England x Maid Belarus, can be anything," so I just saved the thought. Low and behold, one day I decided to put my thoughts onto paper. That day being... well, today. I'm just awesome like that. Also, Iggy's and China's eagerness (from CitS) spurred me on... so...

**Enjoy!**

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**Part 1  
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The boat rocked along the waves, it was a nice day. In general, terms, it had been a nice day – the sun was just setting on a fine sailing day, the ship had made good progress across the sea. The seagulls were returning to land to rest and the fish were already gone below the waves, the fishnets already being gathered up, and the entrapped fish what was on the menu for dinner that night of the ship's crew.

Hardly a cloud in the sky and the sun just setting beyond the ocean waves, the last remaining sliver of sunlight dancing, glistening against the ocean, the breezes wafting every sent they could pull from the surroundings into the nostrils of all who could smell. Or possessed noses. A beautiful day, it was almost as if the scene itself sung…

Natalia could care less about the as she glared at the floors she scrubbed, her knuckles white with force, brows knitted together in concentration, a bead of sweat clinging to the pale hairs of her hairline. Lips pursed in concentration, white teeth clenched behind them as she scrubbed harder and harder…

How many days had passed? The thought was dull and repetitive in her mind, swirling amongst the other thoughts that had become a dull drooling tune of everyday life: How hot it was. When meals would be served. What variety of shit the crewmembers would put her through today. Here, her thoughts held little importance. Aboard this ship, that is… her current residence. She would spit on the man who dared to try to attempt to insist that it was her "home". Home was never a place where you were forced to wear maid costumes and scrub the floors nor do chores worthy of a meaningless slave.

Then again, that is what she had become, wasn't it?

A slave. Sold by her brother after the war in repentance for the large amounts of money he borrowed during the war. Ha. How pitiful. How far the high must fall to truly see that all that they had and ever could was all that they should have wanted. It was a bitter thought and it left traces that tasted of wormwood on the Belarusian girl's tongue.

However, all she truly tasted was the grime of the sea, the soap on her hands and the dirt that she was slowly, steadily scrubbing away… even when she knew that the next day she would scrub the same spot again from dawn 'till dusk. Her hands were calloused and wrinkled from use, from scrubbing and a life she never knew she was capable of leading.

Tell herself that she might treat the servants at home better all she wanted, it seemed God or whatever higher being existed refused to believe her. She did not believe herself. Stubborn girl – she would never learn, would she?

She supposed this was one of those, "life lesson's" shit that she was being put through. The one about how you should be satisfied that you have it good because there is always something worse. Always something worse than your brother not loving you – like your brother selling you to repay war debts to a man you hated. Yes, that was bad, she supposed.

"Missed a spot," a cruel voice, laced with an accent she was too familiar with hissed and she glared up. Although beaten and worn down to the bone, her spirit was still intact, much to Arthur's dismay.

Emerald eyes stared coldly into Natalia's own icy blue orbs. Try as he might, be it degrading her as far as one could go; she refused to break under the pressure. Stubborn, prideful and as far as he could see – adamant in never bending to his will.

It was something that the ruler of the seas was unused to seeing in the eyes of his prisoners and slaves – hope. A will to live on, something to grasp on to. Before – he broke all such purchases that they clung desperately to. One by one, breaking each fragile belief they held into tiny little shreds until all that remained were broken shards on the ships desk to sweep up and the empty shells of what used to be a man.

Perhaps that is where the calculations lay different – Natalia was a woman.

Still, it made no sense. Arthur frowned as he glared down at her, only to receive a stronger, fiercer glare in return. Women were weaker than men were. Fragile in every structure – their minds on their dresses and little things and tea parties and the likes. They were weak. Their bodies unused to the rough work of a man, and yet… still she proved him wrong.

The girl who knelt before him yet in presence felt as if she stood as tall as he did. The girl with the platinum hair that glistened like the knife she had first used to threaten to cut his throat with. The girl who scrubbed his deck with cold eyes and trembling fingers, who took everything they could throw at her and standing up again and again and again.

How this girl pissed him off.

To the very bone, more than that damned Frenchman, more than her damned brother, more than anyone in the whole fucking world, she pissed him off. It was the fact that she affected him so that made it even worse, made the rage he felt increase tenfold.

"I have work to do," she snapped and rose as if to leave. Clenching his palms into fists at his side, Arthur felt his eye twitch, once, twice… and the third time his hand snapped out, grabbed hold onto a thin arm as he swung her forth onto the wooden floor and stepped over her, leering above her, each foot on one side of her body.

Natalia was shocked when the Englishman decided to toss her, like a rag doll, onto the desk, letting out a small cry of pain at the impact of her tailbone against the wood. Glaring up at him, she slammed her fist against the wood, "What the fuck—" the words were cut short as his boot dug into her thigh and she gritted her teeth at the pain that wracked through her. "you weigh only 200 fucking pounds, get off you English bastard!" she hissed between gritted teeth, only to be rewarded with another firm press against her thigh.

"Shut up," he retorted, glaring down at her and she blinked through the tears of pain to look at the sadistic smirk spreading across his lips. The motherfucker, he leant near her, boot digging in all the while and she struggled not to begin screaming. That was a bruise if not broken or fractured, "You belong to me."

The words burned against the skin of her ear and she shuddered. Yes, it was true… oh so very true. He had paid her brother the money; she did belong to him…

It was as she said – Your brother selling you to repay war debts to a man you hated was bad. However, falling in love on top of that with the very man you hated was even worse. Ten times as horrible as never being loved by your brother. Especially when you were falling in love with the pompous king of the fucking sea, Arthur fucking Kirkland, how much more pathetic could you get, really? To think, she had once had taste in her men.

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**"Arthur" Note:** I do not do "PWP" very often, thank you. So, yes, teaser! You all know where it is heading, but just do not know how and I bet you really just want to read this to see more, right, right, right? I know I'm right. I'm always right.

In addition, I have not slept in a day. I have a pattern: Go without sleep for two days, crash for 16 hours on the third. It is fun, you should try it. I am kidding, I am going to sleep right after I finish this.

Well, anyway, I just sort of made up the plotline this is following. If you read this, you pretty much wasted your time if you cannot read NSFW-fics, because that is pretty much all it is gonna be after this.

Well, I hope that you will read and review and let me know of any spelling, grammar or whatever errors I made. I do not role-play Belarus and it is nearing on two o'clock in the morning. Be merciful, I am tired! Anyway...

**Hope you enjoyed! **


	2. Part 2

**Title:** Slave [Part 2/?]  
**Author:** Corvyie  
**Word Count:** 2,435  
**Date Written:** Sunday, March 07, 2010  
**Warnings:** Oral sex, sadism, poorly written sex scene, hentai, and the likes.

**"Arthur" Note:** Well, this is my first hentai! I am so proud of myself… I am not sure if it came out better than I wanted or worse, it is just middle ground for me. It did nothing for me personally, but I am the one who wrote it, so I guess I cannot judge whether or not it was a hot sex scene or not.

Anyway, I decided to write this part today because, well, you are not getting the rest until my exams are over! Yes, sorry, but exams are much more important than providing you people with your daily dosage of smut. Although that is important, too.

Well, I shall be seeing you people with an update in three days (not that long), so until then…

**Enjoy!**

**Part 2**

In her opinion, the "Captain Kirkland" as he often affectionately crooned to her to call him was the scum of the earth. Stealing from other ships to make a living, his sole purpose in life to take what other people had, hold it before them and crush the dreams, hopes and lives right there in his soiled palm. Scum of the earth… no, of the sea… he was scum of the sea.

Yet, she found herself… loving him, though she would never admit it. Somewhere, inside of her, though, she knew, she understood this concept…

He would not have been so successful in his next action had she not some sliver of consent in it.

Arthur leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, Natalia jolting in slight surprise at the contact. Her response only resulted in pain on her half as he pressed his boot deeper into her skin. The Belarusian girl groaned in pain at the contact, her eyes prickled with unshed tears, and the Englishman took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth.

There was no point in struggling, but she would be damned if she did not try. Squirming against Arthur's advances as his tongue explored her mouth. Each struggle resulted in more spasms of pain until Natalia was positive that she would have a limp when this was all over. Then hands joined the attack, the boot replaced by a knee.

His fingers ran along her exposed flesh, tickling the pale skin, her mind was going hazy. A mixture of how incredibly improper it was, how nice a feeling this was, a combination of emotions such as anger and lust mixing in her mind. She could not think straight, everything such a messy blur.

His hands paused in their sinful actions at the hem of her dress and he broke the kiss to look down as he massaged the skin there, "Well, well," he muttered, the warm breath that smelt of cigarette smoke, beer and whatever else he had eaten that day assaulting her nostrils, "It seems we've met a dead end." He cooed, tugging on the dress.

Gathering her spare thoughts, she glared in response, "Good," she snarled, "Now get off of me you bastard!" Mustering whatever strength she could find, she put her hands to his shoulders, pushing the man away from her.

Arthur blinked in confusion, staring before a Cheshire smile broke across his face, "I thought you were enjoying yourself," he sang, only receiving a glare, "Don't be like that… I may not be your brother; however, I think I'm much better than him in bed." He answered, predatory eyes burning into her skin and making her shiver.

"Shut the fuck up!" She snapped, grabbing the brush she had scrubbed the floor with and tossing it at his chest, he flinched only slightly at the contact, "I may be your slave, but there was nothing, _nothing_," she hissed the word, "That said I was your sex slave. I still have my goddamn dignity."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur sighed, approaching her once more. Eyes wide and unwilling to become a victim of his sexual advances, Natalia attempted to escape, only for her attempt to be thwarted as he grabbed her ankle, pulling her closer to him despite her attempts to kick him away. Grabbing her other ankle, she held her down, glaring up at her with eyes that read nothing.

"Slaves are slaves," he answered, his voice soft, "They listen and obey their masters, they bend to their will." His hand went to wandering again, caressing the skin and paying a particular attention to the bruise he had made, making her leg twitch, "It doesn't matter what the contract says, a slave is a slave," he rubbed the bruise, the pretty purple of the wound blooming across her alabaster skin.

"You think you're so unfortunate, don't you?" He hissed, digging his nails into the bruise. She tossed her head back, long, platinum blonde hair spilling across the wood, "Poor little Natalia… poor little girl," he hissed, nails going deeper and deeper until a single drop of blood appeared, a slow smirk spreading across his face and he looked up at her, tears finally finding a way to spill down her blushing cheeks. Body shaking in pain as she glared at him, chest heaving, "You're not the only one who suffered this," he snapped, bending his head down to lick away the blood, his tongue lingering to suck at the skin, her voice filling the night air with quiet moans.

"I was you once," he murmured, kissing further and further up, his other hand lovingly caressing the other leg, pushing the hem of her dress away to reveal more and more of her thighs, "A slave and you know what I did?" He questioned, of course, he expected no answer, only the slow pants, and "I listened." He finished, biting down into her skin, she gasped, hands clenching. He smirked, "I listened, and I obeyed; now you should listen to me…"

He looked up at her, mouth floating just inches above her thigh, "I'm going to make you love me," she cringed at the words and then scoffed, "As if." He glared and then suddenly, his hand was no longer at her thigh, slipping past her dress, he pressed against her panty, feeling the soaking material there and smiled.

"Who knew you were such a masochist, you're enjoying this," he muttered as he rubbed her folds through the fabric. She glared in response, the bastard, a blush spreading brighter and more furious across her face. He smiled in response to her glares, rubbing there and she gasped. Clearly his work was paying off, the fabric hot with her arousal, almost soaked through with liquids. The wind wafted the scent to his nose and he sighed at how _delicious_ it was. God, how long had it been since he had had sex…

His mouth latched to her neck, biting and sucking at the skin, making her moan more as he rubbed against her core, making her body twitch and shudder at what he was doing to her. She leaner her head against his, the smell of his hair entering her nose, it was surprisingly soft, the strands of dirty blonde. Comforting against her warm face, and clinging to her skin as she began to sweat, the coolness of the air barely fighting away the warmth away…

Her eyes closed tightly as he moved his hand in rhythm, adding pressure and speed against her and sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her, upwards into her chest, where her heart was beating erratically. Not from pain this time. Her lips were open, breath hot and panting, ruffling the strands of hair on the Brit's head as his tongue moved along her neck. His mouth kissing, nipping and suckling at the flesh there, along her shoulder, her clavicle, anything they could reach without tearing the dress from her body.

He stopped his actions for a moment and slowly, tauntingly, removed her panties, pulling them down to her ankles. His hand lingered above there for a moment, the hot flesh the fabric was concealing, soaked already with her arousal. He paused only momentarily before his hand attacked again, caressing her core, her hips moving to increase the friction as she clenched her eyes tightly.

He moved faster, calloused fingers pressing against the bump hidden between her folds and he smirked as her legs began to shake, spreading further and further without her notice or care to allow him better access. Her breathing was uneven, hot and breathless in the air, separated by short gasps to gather all the air in her lungs. All because his fingers were there, there in her, pressing into her warm centre.

"Aaaaah!" A small yelp escapes her, filling the night air and he silences her with his mouth, his finger moving in her, swirling and pressing against her walls, moving in and out, in and out, "Shut up," he mutters against her lips, "Do you want people to hear you? I hardly want to be caught having sex with a mere peasant."

She glared at him, in response, her knee managing to find its way into his stomach and he gasped, pulling away from her, his finger still inside. The silence lingered and then he smirked, pressing another finger into her, her head tossed back. No, it was not painful anymore; the pain subsided to leave room only for the slight discomfort it caused and the pleasure. Oh God, the pleasure…

"As I was saying before you interrupted me, I'm going to make you love me," another finger entered her, working magic within herself, pressing just the right spots and making her squirm. Soon, her hips were bucking, trying to get all the friction she could from the contact, pride cast aside in lieu of pleasure. Arthur held her hips down with his free hand watching her face with a smile. Ah, how beautiful her expressions were when he was the one who made her moan like that, _lovely_, the lovely blush across her face and the mess her hair was in, "And if not that, I'll at least make you love the things I do to you."

He paused in his actions, his fingers merely resting there in her. Her pants the only sound besides the waves that beat against the wood of the ship, then his hand was gone and she watched as he examined it. The moon lighting up the nectar – her nectar – the coated his fingers, curiously she watched as he looked at them and then his tongue flicked out, tasting her juices. Then his fingers were in his mouth, rolling across the skin, tasting her and when she saw them against, eyes wide as she watched, they were clean of any excess.

"For someone with such a bitter personality, you're surprisingly sweet," he chuckles and she blushes, tossing her nose into the air and turning away. Fucking bastard… who the fuck did he- "Oh!" she gasped, glaring down as he noticed his mouth once again at her, licking at the inside of her thigh.

He does not waste time to prepare her for what he is about to do next, nor does he waste time in teasing her, gentle kisses planted along her thighs that evolve into sharp nips, leaving marks on her previously unblemished skin. His tongue soothing the bites he leaves, his mouth suckling on every bit of skin it can attach itself to.

She gasps as his hand is there once more, groaning as his fingers spread her apart, his mouth moving in to glide his tongue over her clit. His free hand is still holding her hips down, despite her sudden need to thrust once again into his mouth. That mouth that was doing such devilish things to her… she lets out an unabashed moan as he begins to suck.

His other hand resorts to wandering, caressing and feeling her hips, up and down and then it continues its search, moving upwards across her stomach, lingering there to play in her navel. Travelling further and further up, tickling each rib in turn and pausing at her breasts. His hand managed to squeeze under her bra, squeezing each one, massaging one of the small lumps in a circular motion. He was rewarded with a groan for his actions and then he paused to play with her nipple. Rolling it in between his fingers until it was pert from the attention. He paid the same affection to the other breasts before he paused right there, right where her heart was. His hand rest there, feeling the beating organ beneath the skin, the erratic beating of her heart from the arousal he was giving her.

Then his hand moves back down, ghosting along her skin. She watches his head now, gathering herself enough to watch him, his head as it made small motions. So enticing, the dirty blonde hair there, where no one but herself had touched her before…

"Ah!" she groans loudly as the realization dawns where his hand was, the feeling of those fingers inside her once more overloading her senses. His other hand tightens at her hip, pressing her harder against the wood and Natalia takes a brief moment to note her ass is against the cold wood of the ship. She squirms against his hold, desperately wanting to thrust against him now, longing for any amount of friction she could get and he chuckles. She knows he is smiling – finally, after trying so hard he has broken her. She was finally submissive against him.

The combination is too much and when his fingers find the spot there inside her, she does not bother to restrain the loud moan that escapes her lips, filling the air with the sweet sound of pure ecstasy. Her fists ball into Arthur's moan as she comes with a cry. All the while, Arthur is there, sucking her along the way, swallowing up her juices greedily.

The night is still afterward, nothing but her pants as she comes down from the high of her orgasm and Arthur takes the moment of calmness to gloat. Gloat that he is the only one who has ever made her feel that way, that he is the one who stole her virginity with oral sex no less and, above all else, that he is the one who tamed the shrew. Made her submissive in this little act of "love", because they both knew he had won. She definitely loved the things he had done to her.

Arthur moves first, his head rising from between her legs to look at her, a smirk across his face and his messy dirty blonde hair even messier, two clumps on either side where her hands had balled the strands together. His lips were slick with a combination of her juices and saliva.

"Do you want more?" he asks and she barely registers that she had been nodding until he straightens up, moving in to close the distance between them. Pressing his lips to hers in a chaste manner until his tongue flicks out, allowing Natalia to taste just how "sweet" she is and she presses further against him, this time both tongues taking the opportunity to explore.

He breaks the kiss before the feeling of need and want, the warmth that has gathered in his groin disappears and stands, bending down to gather her up in his arms and moves towards his quarters.

The night is far from over.

**"Arthur" Note:** So, how was it? Was it good or bad? Did I do it correctly – the sex scene, I mean? Remember – this is my first time writing something like this! Hentai, I mean. Therefore, I really want to know if there are bits where I can improve in my writing… I did not have much to go off, either. There are very few hentai fics around the fandom and I did not find any oral sex fics that were not yaoi.

Anyway, enough about me talking about whether or not the sex scene was good, I tried to incorporate as much detail as possible, and however, I really would not know myself. I have read mature fics, but personally, this could be completely inaccurate and I would not know. I wanted to include something about someone watching them, but for now, I shall just tuck that idea away somewhere. Maybe you shall get an omake for the next chapter instead of an actual chapter. Who knows? Not me.

Well, I have nothing else to blabber about so…

**Hope you enjoyed! **(Be sure to leave a review on your way out!)


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